The Vine

For the whole month of October, Zack and I have been traipsing around Napa vineyards and listening to wine connoisseurs describe the infinite nuances of winemaking: about how carefully and precisely each winemaker takes his craft, about how the climate subtleties in Napa Valley are so particular that a vineyard planted in one area is better suited to grow a certain grape variety than one planted a mere acre away, about how pickers jump to work in the middle of the night and around the clock when conditions are suddenly perfect for harvest, and a hundred other details I struggle to retain.

I can’t help but think of Jesus’ analogy in John 15, and it has been special to be staying in a place where we are surrounded every day by the very instrument Christ uses to analogize his life-giving friendship to us.

So, I have been trying to reflect on what it means to abide in the vine, on why we, as branches, require pruning, and on how carefully and precisely we are being crafted by the Gardener into the likeness of Christ.

As Zack and I are turning the corner towards the last month of our trip, I keep grasping for what I am supposed to be learning during this time. It sounds crazy to put on paper, but I thought the lessons would be obvious. I thought that by making the choice to go on this crazy adventure, God would hand me some incredible revelation or unexpected challenge. I feel so far in my life that the biggest lessons came through challenges: times of hard work, times of hardship, or times of self-sacrifice. And while I am intensely grateful (bordering on shamefully grateful) for this travel opportunity, it has, frankly, been really easy. It is marvelous and fun, but honestly, most of the time it also feels frivolous and self-indulgent.

I think I miss feeling like I am earning something, doing something, helping something. So, maybe there in-lies a lesson? Maybe I need to remember that I am a branch, and as Tim Keller puts it, “does the branch get the life of the vine because it is fruitful? No, the branch is fruitful because it gets the life [of the vine].” I don’t want to sound ungrateful for this trip, nor do I think it is (or should be) a permanent way of life for us, but maybe taking a season away to wrestle with the demon of my productive value is part of the gift of this trip.

Zack commented in his August post, A Case of the Sneffels, that he is “grateful to a God who hides beauty in places that are hard to reach.” I love that line, and while Napa is a different animal than the wilderness of the mountains, here we have uncovered His signature in the vineyards and in, even better, the faces of some truly beloved visitors…